We fishtail braid our bodies together
by neverephemeral
Summary: Clarke wouldn't consider it watching as much as it was observing. She observed Octavia, Lincoln, Raven and Wick. She observed how they were together, how they reacted to each other's touch. She observed her co-leader. Her findings? She wanted to be touched by said co-leader. (Bellamy/Clarke)


**I wrote this at 4 am so...**

* * *

_Touch me, yeah_  
_I want you to touch me there_  
_Make me feel like I am breathing_  
_Feel like I am human  
_-A Little Death by The Neighbourhood

**S**he stopped walking, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Held it.

Held it.

And then released.

Opening her eyes again, she took in her surroundings. There was hardly any snow covering the forest ground and what was left was scarce and melting quickly. The temperature wasn't as cold as it was a month ago, winter was finally coming to an end.

Clarke wasn't sad to see it go. She thought that the harsh choke hold that winter had on them would never let up but alas it was; slowly but surely.

Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and allowed her face to bask in the sun's rays. How she had missed it, she couldn't help but to smile a little at the feel of it. After a moment Octavia's laughter broke up the stillness.

Turning, Clarke found Octavia, lingering behind her on the path with Lincoln, laughing as she formed a small snowball and hit Lincoln on the shoulder. When the snowball broke some of the snow hit the grounder on the side of his face. The grounder shook his head and brushed the snow off his shoulder with a small smile on his face.

Smiling, Octavia stepped close to him, standing a hair length's away from each other; and leaned up, kissing him on the cheek where the snow had hit. As she leaned away, she cupped his cheek with her hand. Lincoln leaned into her hand, bringing his own to cover hers. His fingers slipped between hers as their eyes stayed connected.

Clarke hadn't meant to stare but she couldn't help it. She was joyful for the happiness that the two brought each other but she also longed for that. The pure happiness that couldn't be faked no matter how hard you tried. To smile at a brush of lips against your skin, the warmth that surged through your entire body just by a simple touch as a hand to your face.

She was envious of the way Lincoln looked at Octavia and vice versa.

"Wonderful day for sight seeing."

Clarke jumped and turned away from the couple. She could feel her face heating as she stared at Bellamy walking toward her.

"It really is," she answered.

Bellamy smirked, "case of cabin fever, princess?"

"Something like that," Clarke shrugged, "it was a long winter."

He scoffed, "no kidding." He give her a once over with his eyes before he came to a stop in front of her. He scrunched his brows together in question, "you cold?"

"No," she shook her head, "why?"

"Your cheeks are red."

As if to prove it to her, Bellamy reached out a hand, and brushed his fingers over one of her cheeks quickly. It was as if someone had taken a torch to her cheek, heat appearing where his fingers just were.

If possible she was sure that her cheeks became redder.

Clarke cleared her throat, "I'm not. I had my face turned up to the sun though."

She saw the flash of amusement in his eyes, _of course you did_, as the corner of his lips turned up to form a smirk. He leaned and cast a glance over her shoulder, "you done, Juliet and Romeo?"

Clarke glanced backward, willing her cheeks to loose their color, and smiled as Octavia shot her brother an annoyed look.

"You should be nicer," Clarke turned back to her co-leader.

"Hey, I haven't killed him have I?"

As she she opened her mouth to answer he cut her off. "Don't answer that."

Octavia passed Clarke and Bellamy, knocking him slightly with her shoulder, with Lincoln following closely behind her. Bellamy laughed after them with Clarke bringing up the rear.

It took her a minute to realize that he had slowed so that he could walk beside her.

It took her another minute to realize that a brush of his fingers warmed her face more than the sun ever could.

* * *

"How about I take a wrench to your face?"

Clarke stood off to the side as she watched Raven go off, _again_, on Wick. When Octavia came and told her brother and Clarke that Raven was going to seriously wound Wick, Bellamy shot Clarke a smirk, "your turn."

It had become their thing; Raven and Wick fighting one another. Clarke had once told Bellamy that Raven and Wick's fights reminded her of them sometimes. Bellamy of course argued that they weren't as bad as the camp's resident engineer and mechanic. As amusing as it was to watch Raven and Wick go at it, Clarke or Bellamy would have to break it up.

Because really, Raven would seriously wound Wick. She did once. She had felt really bad about it after and Wick would only sometimes tease her about it.

"I would take one to yours but I'm unable to, on the account of your pig nose being in the way!" Wick exclaimed.

"Pig nose?" Raven slammed her hand against the metal table. "_Pig nose_?"

Wick nodded, "because you're so damn pig headed!"

"Oh, right," she rolled her eyes, "_I'm_ the one who's pig headed?"

"What seems to be the problem?" Clarke stepped between the two of them, her blue eyes glancing back and forth between the two of them.

"His ego," Raven replied, her eyes still trained on the man in front of her.

"My ego?" Wick laughed, placing his hands on his hips as he shook his head, "that's funny."

Raven, as usual, let out a frustrated growl and stomped out of their little workshop. Or as much of a stomp a person can do with a paralyzed leg, mumbling under her breath, _damn engineers._

Clarke and Wick watched her go. There was some distance between Raven and them before Wick sighed, _damn mechanics, _and followed after her, like he usually did. She watched as Wick called out for Raven, twice; her being unresponsive to both, before he caught up to her.

Standing in the doorway of the workshop, she watched as Wick placed his hand on Raven's lower back and how she came to a halt, relaxing a little into his hand, as he leaned down and brushed his lips against her ear as he whispered an apology.

Clarke smiled.

If Raven could find happiness again after everything that happened with Finn, then Clarke had hope that she would find that pure happiness.

"Come on, princess," Bellamy said, "did you forget everything I taught you?"

To be fair she hadn't forgotten anything he had taught her about shooting. She remembered it all but she was distracted, by him. She was focused, not on the target, but on Bellamy demonstrating how it was done. Clarke sure as hell wasn't going to tell him that.

"I'm trying," Clarke let out a frustrated sigh, "it's been awhile since I shot a gun."

"You always were better with a knife," Bellamy snorted and then closed his eyes and groaned. "Shit, Clarke, I didn't..."

She swallowed and shook her head, "it's okay."

It was a cheap shot and she knew it but she also knew that he hadn't meant it. Everyone always tip toed around Clarke when it came to Finn and what happened. Her mother, Jasper and Monty were the ones most obvious when it came to to tip toeing while Octavia and Bellamy weren't so much. Clarke didn't know which was worst.

"I'm sorry," Bellamy looked at her with regret, his gaze softened when it met hers.

"I know, Bellamy," she said and then offered him a small smile to let him know that she really was okay and knew he didn't mean it.

Bellamy nodded and coughed, putting his training face back on.

"Let me show you again."

Clarke raised her arms and pointed her gun at the target, letting out a deep shaky breath, when Bellamy came up behind. His arms wrapped around her, as his hands covered hers, correcting her posture and hold of the gun.

"Easy on the trigger," Bellamy's warm breath hit her ear, sending tingles down her neck that shot through her spine.

* * *

Clarke wouldn't consider it watching as much as it was observing. She observed Octavia with Lincoln and Raven with Wick. She observed how they were together, how they reacted to each others touch. She also observed her co-leader. Her findings? She wanted to be touched by said co-leader.

In any other situation Clarke would be front and center. She would be heading out and getting the solution. However, this was not like any other situation. Not by a long shot. This was Clarke wanting be touched by Bellamy.

This was Clarke realizing that she had found her happiness with Bellamy.

This was Bellamy.

This was Clarke.

She didn't do this. She couldn't do this. What if Bellamy didn't want her like she wanted him? Unlikely because Bellamy wanted almost any girl but Clarke wanted more than that. She didn't just want to be another notch in his bedpost, another girl on the list of girl's he had sex with.

She wanted _him_.

Like Octavia had Lincoln or Raven had Wick. Clarke wanted to have Bellamy.

In celebration of spring returning, the camp had a bonfire. Under the watchful eye of Kane, friendly warning from Clarke and encouraging smile from Bellamy, Jasper and Monty brewed up some of their moonshine. Raven and Wick had somehow worked together and created some sort of radio that allowed music to be played throughout the camp.

People danced around the fire, warmed and feeling good from the moonshine, their spirits high. Clarke smiled as she watched her people enjoying themselves. They deserved this. All of them.

Clarke hadn't noticed that Bellamy had slipped away until she found herself looking for him. When the thought of him possibly leaving with someone flashed through her mind, Clarke found her spirit crashing from the high.

She took another sip of her moonshine.

Clarke found herself once again observing. She observed how Wick sat beside Raven on the ground, their backs resting against a log. He was facing the fire with his legs laying flat against the ground and Raven was turned sideways, her legs thrown over his, passing a jar of moonshine between the two of them.

Her blue eyes moved from them over to Octavia and Lincoln who were dancing on the other side of the fire. Her back was to his front and they were moving in synch to the beat of the song. Lincoln had his arms wrapped around her, with Octavia covering his with hers, their fingers linked together, as she had her head resting against his shoulder. Lincoln would brush his lips over her exposed neck.

Tossing back another gulp of her moonshine, Clarke handed it over to Jasper, who was sitting with Monty beside her; stood up, turned and made her way to Bellamy's tent.

Clarke entered his tent without stopping to knock or at least announce her presence. She had let out a sigh of relief when she found him alone but that relief was quickly replaced with something else. Bellamy laid sprawled out on his bed, his arms cradling his head, as he stared up at the ceiling.

He was shirtless.

Bellamy had only raised an eyebrow at her arrival.

"Ah," Clarke couldn't think with him laying before her shirtless.

"Yes, princess?"

_Get it together, Clarke._

"You left." _Lame._

"I did," Bellamy stated.

"Why?" Clarke asked.

Bellamy shrugged, "didn't want to be there."

"Why?" _Idiot._

"Someone's nosy," Bellamy laughed.

"No," Clarke shook her head, "I just... you left."

"As we established," Bellamy pulled an arm out from behind his hand and placed his hand on his stomach, his fingers just brushing the waistband of his pants.

This wasn't going how she had hoped.

"Why did you leave?" he asked.

"To look for you," she answered.

Bellamy tilted his head, his dark eyes shining with mirth, "why?"

Clarke shook her head and huffed, looking away from her half naked co-leader. Never mind she didn't want to be touched by him anymore.

"Must you always be an ass?" Her voice was soft and it sounded tired in her ears.

"Clarke."

She looked up. Gone was the mirth from his eyes, replaced with something else that Clarke couldn't tell. Concern? Desire?

"Why are you here?"

Clarke opened parted her lips but no words escaped. She couldn't. His dark eyes stared into her own with a furious mixture of emotions that she had to look away. Her eyes focused on the floor as her face turned red.

* * *

She jumped as something cold brushed her cheek and when she looked up, she gasped. Bellamy was standing right in front of her. No words were exchanged between the two of them as he stared down at her with his dark orbs.

He cupped her face gently between his hands, and Clarke realized it was his fingers that had brushed against her cheek before. His hands were a cool relief against her flushed cheeks, her eyes slipped closed as she leaned into.

A minute passed before she felt his thumb brushed against her bottom lip.

Clarke opened her eyes to stare into his.

He stared back as he retraced her bottom lip with his thumb. He then leaned down, slowly, and pressed his lips against hers.

A sweet, gentle kiss with promise.

She opened hers eyes to once again meet his. Bellamy's lips formed a small genuine small and she found her lips mimicking his.

She leaned up on her toes, one of her hands moving to cup his neck, while her other one stayed wrapped around his wrist. He met her halfway and their lips once again met. This time she opened parted her lips, with her bottom lip being pulled between both of his. She could faintly taste the moonshine on them.

They parted for air. Bellamy leaned his forehead against hers, rubbing his nose against hers as he released a warm, shaky breath against her mouth. She tightened her fingers around his wrist as his other hand moved from cupping her face, to running his fingers through her hair, before he pulled back further.

No words were needed. All it took was one look from her to let Bellamy know what she wanted.

Bellamy was slow to remove her shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on her sides, as he reached the hem and pulled it off. Not once did they look away from each other. His hands ran up and down her sides, making her let out sighs, as he watched her.

She couldn't remember, but Bellamy had somehow managed to get her over to his bed, laid out on her back. Somewhere along the way they had both lost the rest of their clothes.

Clarke ran her hands through his shaggy mess of hair as his lips sucked on her neck. He had alternated between sucking on her earlobe and kissing hot trails up and down her neck before he focused on the skin where her neck and shoulder met.

All the while Clarke let out sighs and the occasional moan when he hit a good spot.

Bellamy pulled away and leaned over her, brushing her hair away from her face, and she turned her head into said hand, pressing a sighing kiss to his palm. She then turned and stared up at him, copying him and brushed some of his hair away from his eyes.

With a gentleness that could match a butterfly, Clarke ran her thumbs over his freckles that covered his face. She adored his freckles. Bellamy observed her in silence, before he moved his head, and trapped her thumb between his lips.

Clarke's eyes darkened as she watched and another sigh escaped her.

Bellamy leaned down and pressed a slow but heated kiss to her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth after he had slowly traced her lips with it, like he was memorizing every crack. Then he moved from her lips to her chin and down the column of her throat.

Slowly, almost seemingly without a care. But with each sigh she released, she realized how not so nonchalantly he was. Bellamy was reading her body, focusing with the intense concentration that made him such a good leader.

Clarke gasped and arched her back and his lips brushed against her inner thigh.

Bellamy's breath cooled her skin as it brushed against it.

He reached out his left hand and grasped hers, linking their fingers together, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Clarke opened her eyes and peered down at him. A soft laugh escaped her lips along with a sigh. He met her stare and offered her a smile of his own before he went back to kissing her thigh as he trailed upwards.

Clarke moaned and arched her back. She squeezed his hand hard and he squeezed back just as hard, while she reached blinding for his other hand. Instead her fingers wrapped against his forearm. Her nails dug into his skin.

Another moan and her hand moved from his forearm to his hair. She yanked.

He moaned.

She saw white.

* * *

Clarke didn't know how long it was before she came back but when she did, her entire body was shaking while her limbs felt heavy. She could feel lips on hers, her cheeks, forehead, eyelids and nose.

With effort her eyes slipped back open.

The darkness and intensity were still there in his eyes but there was a softness to them too. He smiled down at her as he cradled her face with one of his hands, his other was brushing away her hair that had stuck to her forehead because of the sweat.

She laughed softly and his smile turned wider as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Like before, it was a sweet gentle kiss with promise.

Clarke nudged him onto his back and she climbed on top of him. She looked down at him and saw nothing but desire and love shining in his eyes. Never before had she seen him so open and genuine.

Bellamy was hers.

He sat up, kissing her again as he wrapped his arms around her, his hands running up and down her spine as he moved inside of her.

Clarke through her head back as he kissed her throat.

Clarke watched him as he slept, the steady rise and fall of his chest, as a feeling of utter content rolled over her like waves. Never did she ever want to let go of this feeling.

She fell asleep that night laying beside him, his arms wrapped around her, their legs tangled together. Their limbs tangled together that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! **

**-KT xo**


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